IMPERIO
by annakino
Summary: Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione is a hot mess. She's sinking into addiction and bitterness, isolating herself from her friends, until a ghost from the past comes back into her life...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hermione stood in the bathroom of her modest London flat, staring at her pallid reflection in the mirror. She had lost quite a bit of weight in recent years, a side effect of her grief, accompanied by a streak of blonde hair running through her bushy brown mane. She wore a satin robe, lazily tied, and she easily slipped it off of one shoulder and pressed the tattoo of an elaborate rose her lover had drawn there.

Not a few moments had passed, when there was a soft knock at the door. She opened it and saw a large man grinning devilishly from beneath his black goatee and brandishing a single red rose. She took the rose half heartedly and met his dark gaze for the briefest moment before retreating back into the hall, knowing he would follow.

"A bit earlier than our usual time, love," said Albert Runcorn, taking off his cloak, then ripping off his shirt to reveal a massive chest and terrifyingly strong arms. "Not that I'm complaining…" He walked up, half-naked, behind Hermione, who was standing with her back to him, staring out the window of her sitting room. She knew what she had to do, though she was unsure how to do it. "What's the rush?" He began kissing her neck but she turned around to face him.

"I didn't call you here for that." She slid out of his grip.

"Is something wrong? Has Snape been bothering you again? You just give the word and he's"-

"It's not Snape. I just can't- I can't do this." She tried to walk away but he caught her arm. A look of comprehension on his face, he reached out to touch her cheek.

"Ah yes, for a moment I'd forgotten your true desires, you naughty girl," he said, removing it from his pocket and pointed it under her chin, sliding his other hand to her waist. "Very well, I am here to please," He drew his wand back.

" _Imper"-_

"No!" Hermione swatted his wand onto the floor, "it's over! I can't do this anymore! I just wanted to tell you… in person."

"Over?" Something beyond lust gleamed within the depths of his narrowed eyes. Runcorn pinned Hermione against the wall so fast that it took her breath away. She couldn't scream. She couldn't think. If he desired to hurt her in earnest, he had always been able to do so, and had refrained, but perhaps now that she was ending it he would not be so lenient.

"What?" Runcorn was suddenly aware of Hermione's terror. "Are you afraid? Don't know what I might do?" He searched her face for some respite, some small sign that she had come to trust him in their short months together. He found nothing, however, and he released her, backing away and picking his shirt off the floor. Now fully dressed, he looked around almost sheepishly, then watched Hermione tighten the drawstring of her silk robe and wipe a tear that had escaped onto her face.

"I have never hurt you, Hermione. Not unless you wanted me to." Runcorn said.

"You… are bad for me," Hermione said finally.

Runcorn closed the distance between them and was now towering over her, making her feel helpless. "But we don't have to use the Imperius Curse at all! That was your idea, anyway. We can just be together. No enchantments." There was a tenderness in his voice that Hermione had never heard, or perhaps she'd never let herself hear before.

"Really?" She said sarcastically, determined to make him understand, "a muggle-born, Harry Potter's best friend, and a Death Eater? Together? In a relationship?" She forced a derisive laugh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ex-Death Eater," Runcorn said quietly. He gathered his cloak gruffly from the floor and unbolted the door. "Wish you could understand that." He left and a moment later Hermione heard a small _crack_ from outside. He was gone.

She felt proud of herself for standing her ground; not giving into the temptation of being sedated and taken advantage of by a gorgeous and dangerous man. He had been the only one that could fulfill her desire to be controlled. One flick of his wand, a muttered word under his breath, and her mind went blissfully blank. Every command he gave her was gladly obeyed; everything he made her do caused pure, unadulterated pleasure to course through her veins...

Now, she sat on the window sill completely sober and completely alone. Her thoughts became increasingly more and more depressing as her night spent in solitude wore on. Memories of Ron flooded her; pictures of the past, as if leafing through a photo album of their friendship- Ron with her arm around her, Ron stabbing the cup of Hufflepuff with a basilisk fang; the three of them, she and Harry and Ron… how it all used to be.

She got up off the couch and set her book down. Rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, she searched for a bottle of firewhiskey left over from that cloyingly saccharine baby shower of Ginny's she had volunteered to host. She was happy for Harry and Ginny, of course, but sometimes she went overboard with her generosity and enthusiasm; as though trying to hide her own bitterness. She found it. There were at least a few shots left in the bottle. She poured herself a generous one and sipped it, shuddering. She'd never been much of a drinker, but after ending her Imperius curse addiction, she had to find a new one, didn't she?


	2. Chapter 2

She still remembered the smell of Ron's shirts; always laundry detergent and cinnamon. She could never figure out where the cinnamon came from, and later when they had gotten close he had sworn he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Ms. Granger?" Said a rather lilty voice that brought Hermione back to the present. She swiveled forward in her office chair to face Leonard Harrington, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Remember, we're having dinner with the witches from Botswana tonight at 8:30." He smiled expectantly, as though she needed his reminder. He looked smart in his custom-tailored suit and well thought-out tie. Still, his chances were dismal. Hermione knew perfectly well that he'd slept with half of the female office staff. She may have been the newest member of the department, but then she was also the smartest. Even if she didn't know, what would she do with him anyway? She gave her heart away a long time ago… All she had left were secret rendez-vous with a man whom she couldn't even stand unless she was under the Imperius curse. She thought of the whiskey from the previous night and shuddered. How anyone could drink anything so vile was beyond her.

"Yes, Leonard, I look forward to it," she forced a sweet smile and he beamed in return. Not a minute after he left, there was a knock on her door again.

"Ms. Granger," said the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He gave a curt nod and shut the door carefully behind him. "I must speak with you urgently."

Hermione didn't like the tone of his voice. Kingsley had mentored her through her apprenticeship at the Ministry, all through her early years working desk job after desk job, and finally initiated her into the Wizengamot earlier that year, just as Ginny had announced that she and Harry were expecting.

"You are aware of the explosion in Paris?"

"Yes, of course, but it was a Muggle bombing, wasn't it?"

Kingsley shook his head. "The investigation team that keeps us updated on all abnormal activity let us know this morning that there was no evidence of a bomb having ever been present. This was a Wizard's doing."

Hermione's eyes widened. She hadn't heard of an attack like this in almost seven years. "Any ideas?"

"Lestrange," said Kingsley quietly. Hermione let the name echo through the office before speaking.

"Have you talked to Harry?"

Kingsley shook his head. "We can't involve him, Hermione. His wife is expecting. He has to focus on his family."

"Do you have any idea how angry with you he'll be when he finds out and you didn't tell him?"

"That is a wrath I am willing to feel after this is over and he's had his child."

Hermione hesitated, slowly shaking her head. "Sir, there are rumors that he is"-

"Voldemort's son. Yes. What do you think is the truth?"

"Well, no one has laid eyes on him since he disappeared from Durmstrang ten years ago. I imagine it would be easier to tell if we knew what he looked like."

"True. Whether or not he is Voldemort's son doesn't matter. The same evil that ran through Bellatrix's veins runs in his, that's all we know. Finding him is nearly impossible, but I have faith in you."

Hermione nearly choked back vomit. "Me? But sir, I'm not an Auror, I'm not an investigator-"

"You won't be alone. Another colleague has volunteered to begin the search. Severus Snape."

Hermione was probably the only person besides Harry Potter to ever dare argue with the Minister of Magic and this time was no exception. "Minister, you are aware of our history with Snape."

"Of course, which is precisely why I think you two will make an excellent team. You disagree?"

Her mouth opened and closed. She couldn't possibly begin to explain her feelings toward Severus Snape, especially to Kingsley. Ten years ago, Snape was easily one of her least favorite people until he almost died in the Great Battle. Harry had saved his life, after catching a glimpse of his memories in the Pensieve. Hearing the story from Harry after Ron fell, they tried to visit him at St Mungo's but he had turned them away. He told them their debts had been repaid. They had nothing more to do with each other.

She had run into him on numerous occasions at the Ministry, but for the last year she hadn't seen him at all or heard his name even mentioned.

"Where has he been for the last year?"

"Russia."

"Durmstrang?"

He nodded. "He has been working with the Headmaster, Volkov, to learn everything he can about Lestrange's time there. Of course, he was studying under a different identity that his mother had given him- and Snape is the one that found out what it was. You will be safe with him, Hermione."

"What was his name, at Durmstrang, I mean?"

"His alias was Denis Almazov. Apparently, he was believed to be the son of an enormously wealthy Siberian wizard, Kazimir Almazov, that had mysteriously died at the same time Lestrange began his first year at Durmstrang. He spoke fluent Russian at eleven years old. No one questioned his heritage."

Hermione listened in awe. She had so many questions about Lestrange, but the more pressing matter was how in the world she would help capture him.

"Why me? Why not an Auror or someone with more experience?"

"You are one of two people in the world that have the experience necessary for this kind of mission. The other is having a baby."

The memory of Ron's eyes closing and squeezing her hand one last time before he took his last breath made Hermione's eyes glisten and she looked down for a split second before affording a small smile. "Harry's going to kill you."

After dinner with Leonard, Hermione was desperate to be alone. Her mind was going at lightning speed, thinking about the mission ahead. She didn't know how Snape would react to seeing her. She ran through a million scenarios in her head involving Snape ignoring her as they worked in silence, or perhaps telling her she was annoying every once in a while. Sure, he was one of the most intelligent people Hermione had ever met, and certainly one of the bravest, but he was just plain unlikeable, and who knew how long they would be working together?

A few minutes after she had apparated home, the rose tattoo on her shoulder burned red.

 _Runcorn_.

Her day had been so strange… Her future was so uncertain… And she was leaving the country, possibly…

Perhaps one last time? She pressed the rose, closing her eyes. Just one last time. He appeared at her door the second she opened it.

"How many times are we going to play this game, love?"

"Shut up and take out your wand."

Runcorn didn't need to be told twice. In a split second he had a powerful hand firmly against Hermione's throat, while the other brandished his wand between her breasts.

" _Imperio,"_ he whispered.

As soon as he'd uttered the word, Hermione's eyelids fluttered, she swayed into his arms, and her lips curved into a peaceful smile.

She gazed up at him. "Hello, hot stuff." She laughed, running her hands mischievously down his muscular arms.

He took her in his arms and carried her to the rug before the fireplace, then pointed his wand briefly at the logs and muttered, " _Incendio."_ Runcorn knew how to set the mood. "I want you to take off your clothes."

"Yes, sir," she said, removing them slowly. She stood before him in her undergarments, looking at Runcorn with a slightly seductive smile.

"Now put your hands behind your back."

"Yes, sir."

"Turn around."

He came up behind her, holding her wrists and bending her over an arm of the couch. "You've been very naughty."

Hermione's eyes were closed and she breathed, "Yes I have."

He spanked her. "You know what I do to naughty girls?"

"No, sir."

"Naughty girls have to be punished."


End file.
